


Boy Wonder or Whatever

by taylor_tut



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Gen, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Protective Tony Stark, Sick Character, Sick Peter, Sick Peter Parker, Sickfic, Tony Stark Has A Heart, dad tony stark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-18
Updated: 2018-04-18
Packaged: 2019-04-24 14:05:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14357025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taylor_tut/pseuds/taylor_tut
Summary: Peter shows up to Tony sick with a fever, and Tony lets him know it's okay to go easy on himself once in a while.





	Boy Wonder or Whatever

Peter stumbled out of his final class in a daze. His head was pounding even harder than it had been earlier that morning, which was saying something, and the coffee that he’d choked down at lunch had done nothing for his energy levels. 

Ned caught him leaning his forehead on his locker tiredly, the cold metal providing temporary relief from the headache.

In his misery, Peter didn’t even notice him until he slammed his locker shut and jumped when Ned was standing behind it.

“Jesus, Ned!” Peter startled, grabbing his chest, “you scared the hell out of me.” 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to,” he apologized. “Do you have to go to your internship, or do you wanna hang out and play video games?”

Peter shook his head and pulled his jacket tight around himself. “Internship,” he moaned, “but honestly, I wish I could skip it.”

Ned frowned. “Does Mr. Stark not give you sick days?” he asked, pressing a hand to Peter’s forehead like a worried mother. “Oh, wow. You definitely should be sleeping. You shouldn’t have even come to school today.”

“I’m afraid to ask, really,” Peter said, shuddering this time not because of the chills. “He’s worked through radiation poisoning and all kinds of trauma, and I’m sure he’d work through a cold like this. I don’t want him to think I’m slacking off.”

“Dude, you need to rest,” Ned insisted. “If you don’t, you’re gonna end up feeling way worse.”

Peter slung his backpack over his shoulders tiredly, slumping under the weight, and trudged toward the doors of the school.

“I’m sure I’ll be fine,” he promised. 

He was wrong.

Peter usually was. For a genius, he was pretty dumb sometimes.

“Pete,” Tony bit, “look alive, kid. What I’m showing you is important.”

Peter shook himself a little, prying his eyes open. 

“Sorry,” he rasped--when had his voice gotten so bad?-- “I’m listening.”

Tony hesitated, but continued. “So I think the most important thing to focus on here is going to be…”

Peter’s head felt heavy and fuzzy, like he was trying to listen to Tony with earmuffs on. Though he could feel heat cycling up from his shirt, up his neck, and back, the chill he’d felt earlier was only intensifying. 

If he were home, Aunt May would run a hot bath, fill it with epsom salts, and tell him not to think about homework, because there was no way he was going to school tomorrow. But the price of this internship, the price of studying under and working beside THE Iron Man himself, the price of getting everything he wanted and being everything he dreamed of--well, if that cost him a few nights sleep and an epsom salt bath, that was worth it.

Still, he couldn’t help but want both.

He was shivering, and he knew it. But Tony’s steady hand on his back made him even more aware of the fact that the feeling of being on a boat during a storm was all in his head. It was making him nauseated anyway.

“Hey, Pete?” Tony said, sounding gentler this time. “You’re looking pretty pale. Do you want to go home?”

Peter didn’t want to move at all. He was afraid that if he did, he’d lose the tremulous hold he had on his stomach. He shook his head.

Tony sighed. “Look, I know that you’re trying to be Boy Wonder or whatever, but people have limits.”

Peter forced himself to meet Tony’s eyes.

“You don’t,” he accused, watching Tony’s face darken.

“Yeah, and you don’t want to be anything like me,” he replied. “Go home, kid. Get some sleep. Come back in a day or two.”

Peter’s hand flew to his mouth and he gagged. “Mr. Stark--” he panicked-- “trash can.” Tony was quick on his feet, sliding the basin between Peter’s knees just in time for him to throw up the small amount of lunch he’d been able to choke down. It burned his already sore throat and did nothing for the pounding in his head.

Tony patted Peter’s back, looking up and away with a grimace. 

‘Aw, shit, kid,” he sighed, “Dum-E, bring some ginger ale and a washcloth.” The robot beeped and whirred off.

Peter refused to look up at Tony so as not to show the tears in his eyes. 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Stark,” he apologized, his tone breathy and miserable, “I’m really sorry; I didn’t know that this was gonna--”

“Pete,” Tony cut him off. There was no further warning, no instruction, but Tony didn’t need a lot of words to command a room. “Think you’re done?”

Peter nodded, and Tony fished a pack of mint gum from his pocket and offered a stick, which Peter took gratefully. 

“Let me see you,” he instructed gently, and when Peter glanced up, Tony pressed a cool hand to his forehead and cheeks. “Jesus,” he muttered, “why would you come try to work burnin’ up like this? Did you go to school today with this fever?” 

Peter’s face crumpled. “I just--I’m just trying really hard,” he whined, “and I’m still screwing everything up.”

“Kid, you’re not--no, look at me,” he said, pausing until Peter met his eyes once more, “you’re not screwing anything up. Sure, you should’ve told me you weren’t up to working today, but getting sick isn’t against the rules,” he reassured. “Now, if you’d worked for my father, it’d be a different story,” he added. “But I’m a lot nicer.” 

The admission didn’t totally sit right with Peter, but he knew he’d never get any more information out of Mr. Stark without a few shots in him, so he let it be. 

“Can I go home?” Peter allowed himself to ask.

“Dum-E already called your aunt, and she’s leaving work early. Happy’s out front.”

Tony helped Peter stand up, steadying him and leading him out of the lab and outside toward the car. Once he was settled in, Tony closed the car door, then rolled down the window.

“Thanks for this, Mr. Stark,” Peter said, feeling his cheeks heat up pink with embarrassment. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

An indignant look crossed Tony’s face. “I think the hell not,” he returned. “I’ll see you 36 hours after that fever breaks, at the very least. I’ll know. I’m in cahoots with May, now. We’re an unstoppable force.”

Peter grimaced. 

“Happy, get him home safe,” Tony instructed, nodding cooly as Peter waved out the window. Maybe Peter could have his epsom salt bath and his “Boy Wonder or Whatever,” too.


End file.
